Protect Me, Perfect Me
by MissedTheLastTrainHome
Summary: Elena Hart has always been alone to face the suffering at the hands of her abusive boyfriend, Guy Gisborne. Until, one day, Allan A'Dale is there to pick up the pieces. And somehow, love blossoms. AU, Allan/OC.
1. Brick Walls

**Protect Me, Perfect Me**

Summary: Elena Hart has always been alone to face the suffering at the hands of her abusive boyfriend, Guy Gisborne. Until, one day, Allan A'Dale is there to pick up the pieces. And somehow, love blossoms.

Authors: Alice - MissedTheLastTrainHome (UnaIsNotorious on Twitter), and Sophie - (sophsayssupdude on Twitter)  
Rating: T - some chapters later on will be M, but we'll notify you ahead and on the chapter so you can decided to read or not.  
Pairings: Allan/OC, with Guy/OC at first. We've really tried hard to make our OC as good as possible, so please keep an open mind.  
Disclaimer: WE OWN ELENA, OUR OC. Any other OC's are also ours. We don't, however, own the beauty that is Allan, or any of the Robin Hood characters.

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Chapter One: Brick Walls

The brick walls were a constant reminder that Elena Hart was safe.

Founded in 1879, Sheffield University was constructed with masses of strong, russet coloured bricks. From the suburbs of the city, the brickwork of the many colleges, lecture halls and research buildings were easily visible. The city was one of the most vibrant places to be - and the University was the pinnacle of the famed environment.

As Elena walked through the doors of the campus for English students, she observed the building. Ever since she had started at the University back in September, she had relished the sight of the old, classic architecture work and basked in the safety of the English centre, a place that seemed like a second home to her.

For the 20-year-old freshman, it was a safety net for her. At University, she could hide away from her everyday life horrors. In other words, her boyfriend, Guy Gisborne; who had came with her from Nottingham. Guy - who at first was the seemingly perfect boyfriend, but many weeks later, he showed his true colours.

_Controlling bastard_, Elena thought, feeling her stomach clench in a combination of fear and rage. A deep purple bruise began to prickle on her ribs this morning, and it had been painful to cover up. Her skin was naturally pale so any additional bruises stood out easily. Elena often found herself wishing she was tanned, like many of the girls who studied at Sheffield - who were also gifted with tall, shapely bodies and sleek, straight hair. In comparison, the 20-year-old had dark, sienna hair and a skinny body, that often left her feeling inadequate to some of the Barbie replicas.

She passed by empty corridors, leaving her thoughts to wander of their own accord. English had always stood for her as a passion - studying it everyday gave her a sense of happiness, even though the rest of her life didn't. She approached her Seminar room, and noticing that there weren't many students inside, confidently entered.

The room was a typical study room - rows of uncomfortable plastic chairs seated in wonky rows. Elena let her obsessive compulsive side take over as she counted the chairs and frowned at how inaccurately they were placed, before walking over to her usual seat - ever so slightly isolated from everyone else, near the door.

She removed her jacket and hung it from the backrest of her chair, before sitting herself down, and retrieving her notepad and pen from the messenger bag carelessly slung over her shoulder. Waiting for her classmates to arrive, Elena took moment to review her notes from the last seminar. Her pen found its usual place, positioned loosely between her lips, while her soft waves fell forward into her face, prompting her to gently brush them behind her ear. Her eyes scanned the page as she allowed herself to become detached from the outside world, her mind focused solely on the information presented before her.

In that moment, it seemed that nothing could cause her concentration to falter, effectively breaking her trance. Nothing, that is, until the door burst open, and the calm atmosphere of the room was disturbed by the remaining students surging towards their seats. Elena glanced up, tearing her eyes from the page long enough to observe the bustling crowd of students, stifling a sigh as her peaceful demeanour vanished.

She was about to attempt to resume her revision, until she noted the door closing as the last individual entered the room. As her brain registered the identity of said individual, she realised her concentration was essentially broken beyond repair.

_Allan A'Dale._

In spite of her boyfriend, Elena spent more time than she would care to admit admiring Allan - her excuse being that, because he sat across from the aisle from her, she simply couldn't help stealing the occasional peek. She found herself studying the planes of his face, noting every feature, from his slightly rugged facial hair to his extremely prominent nose - the latter of which being a feature that Elena found, in short, utterly adorable. His spiky mop of short, dirty chestnut coloured hair was always styled to perfection, much to the delight of his admirer.

However, the one aspect of Allan's physical appearance that Elena found herself most drawn to were his eyes. Eyes that were of such a vibrant, yet clear blue colour, she often found herself rendered incapable of forming a coherent sentence at the mere sight of them. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, but, in this case, they are more than that - they are the one thing able to reduce a usually level-headed young woman into something of a mental wreck.

The very same blue eyes surveyed the room, before wandering to her. He tried, with great difficulty, not to let on that he had been waiting for the moment he set foot in the room with great anticipation, just so he could be greeted by her smile on his arrival.

"Alright?" Allan said, accompanied by a small smile and a friendly nod.

Elena reciprocated, deciding to keep the conversation short with a simple, "Hello,"

He took his seat, and quietly waited for the seminar to begin. His conduct inside the university building was the polar opposite to the way Elena noted he behaved around campus. During seminars and lectures, and the moments preceding and following them, he was demure, and extremely focused. He knuckled down and studied hard, in comparison to his usual antics outside of class.

He was relatively well-known for being a chatty, extroverted character, never seen without a smile on his face. He was renowned by those he knew for having a cheeky side to him, a side which many grew to resent as they became the butt of his witty remarks. Elena enjoyed seeing him like this, as his radiating positivity was one of the few things capable of brightening her day - his contagious happiness serving as a distraction from the helplessness she felt on a daily basis.

Although he seemed popular, he liked to keep his friendship circle small, consisting of the flitty types who didn't stick around for long and could easily be replaced. She knew of close friends outside of Sheffield that he socialised with regularly, but he didn't associate with anybody on campus more than Will Scarlet - who Elena took to be his best friend. She and Allan had mutual feelings for one another: they were not friends. They were close acquaintances, but neither considered the other to be a friend, as such. They engaged in short, but sweet conversations after seminars and lectures. However, their knowledge of each other's lives was minimal, if not non-existent.

With a clatter, the main door to the lecture room opened once again, and the lecturer entered - his arms piled high with what could be easily perceived as copies of Shakespeare's complete works. Elena's face lit up - she'd studied the famous poet as part of her A-Levels, and every piece of work she returned on him had been splashed with praise.

"Good morning, students," The lecturer's voice boomed around the room. The voice belonged to no other than John Little, the larger-than-life character whose size reflected his wide knowledge of the English language.

A murmur of response reverberated. Elena didn't say anything - not out of rudeness, but out of truth. In all honesty, she hadn't had a good morning (until Allan had acknowledged her, that is). Several victimising texts from Guy had jolted her awake and she'd heaved a sigh of exasperation as she'd abruptly shut it away into her pocket, like she did (or tried to do) with every other cause of pain in her life.

In the background, the 20-year-old could hear John burst into today's lecture. She felt her mind take off. She wasn't in the room anymore - she was on a jet, flying into the skies to escape from University life. On her flight would be Allan A'Dale, a gigantic case of dusty, vintage books and a traditional ice cream machine, where she could help herself freely to as much ice cream as she wanted and regret nothing.

Perhaps they'd go to California, or Paris. They'd get away somewhere busy and thrumming of excitement - somewhere with a heart of electric atmosphere, yet teaming with secluded, peaceful hideaways. She'd spend weeks at the sea, writing novels and reports on whatever she wanted. Allan would become her friend, her confidant, and maybe...more.

They'd have to conceal their identities of course. Elena's dark hair would be bleached to a faded honey, and Allan would wear edgy reading glasses: the dream was becoming so visually clear in Elena's head that she was fearing for her sanity.

"...this leads me to my next point: your task for this month is to work in pairs and make a presentation on a Shakespeare work of your choice. You'll find a help sheet online on the work platform."

Elena lifted herself upright. She'd evidently missed a crucial part of the seminar. Cursing under her breath, she twirled her pen around between her fingers and scribbled down what John Little had just announced.

"Now," Looking at his laptop, the older lecturer smirked at the class, "contrast to popular choice, I will pair you all up myself. Friendship groups will not be taken into consideration."

Elena snorted to herself. She didn't have a "group", so it didn't make a difference whoever she was put with. She could hear boys at the back of the class protesting in high-pitched voices, an edge of sarcasm added to their cries. A small, soft smile grew on her lips - the boys could be contagious, even though their banter never included her.

"Allan, I'd like you to be with Elena, please..." John's voice cut through her thoughts like glass.

The smile quickly disappeared off Elena's face.

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A/N: We've been planning this for so long, so we'd really appreciate reviews. If you have the time to subscribe, please do so. We want this to be successful as there is a LOT of exciting chapters coming up and you will honestly not be disappointed by the romance and hurt/comfort. Thank you so much for reading! Love Alice and Sophie :)


	2. I Don't Bite

Chapter Two: I Don't Bite

_"Allan, I'd like you to be with Elena, please..." John's voice cut through her thoughts like glass._

_The smile quickly disappeared off Elena's face._

Allan found himself coughing violently, as an involuntary and incredibly sudden intake of breath caught in his throat. Of all the people sat in the classroom, of all the people he could have potentially been paired with, _why her?_

He glanced over to the desk immediately to his left, the desk at which he found his gaze quite often lingering. Elena's brow was furrowed, worry etched onto her face. She ran a hand through her long, tousled hair, pushing it away from her porcelain skin to reveal a slight blush tingeing her cheeks. The blush darkened significantly as she caught Allan staring, and suddenly the cuff of her cardigan became the most interesting thing in the room.

Unbeknownst to Elena, Allan spent just as much time, if not more, admiring her as she did him. The way her dark hair cascaded down her back in textured waves, and the way it contrasted starkly with the almost transparent paleness of her face. He frequently found himself getting lost in her dusty blue eyes, often using all of his willpower to maintain his focus. Her mouth never failed to curve into a delicate smile whenever they talked, or she saw him; an occurrence Allan had grown extremely fond of and tried to provoke whenever he could.

However, he always sensed that there was something hidden behind that smile, almost as if it was a front. He had figured out pretty soon after he met her that she had a secret of some description - deducing so after running out of excuses to make on her behalf and exhausting every possibility. Something was definitely troubling her. Nobody could surely be so naturally talented at a subject, so passionate and fascinated by the English language, and yet seem as though she was in the deepest realms of Hell whenever she was in class.

Allan's reverie was disturbed by the assortment of grumbles echoing throughout the room - John had seemingly concluded the group selection.

"Now, as we only have a quarter of an hour remaining, I'd like you to take this opportunity to familiarise yourself with your partner. After all, teamwork is key," the lecturer sounded slightly smug, as though he was enjoying watching the havoc ensue throughout the room.

With that, the group of students moved to be beside their respective partners, albeit not very quietly. Chairs were clattered and desks were dragged out of the way in order to make room for the pairs to converse. Elena and Allan, on the other hand, merely had to swivel round in their chairs to face each other across the aisle.

Allan was the first to make a move, slowly turning around until he was sideways on in his seat. When Elena didn't respond, he quietly cleared his throat to grab her attention. The only part of her body that moved was her pale hand, which had previously been holding on her pen - it began to clench the ballpoint like a vice, her fingers shaking. Allan stared, engrossed by the unusual display of...what exactly was it? Was it fear? It couldn't be - Elena's face remained perfectly nonplussed.

Before Allan could act, she stopped shaking and turned to him with a smile on her face. A small one, but still a smile. The curve of her lips would fool anyone that she was fine: but Allan knew better.

"You seem pleased to be with me." Allan joked, lacing his voice with sarcasm. Elena knew it was common knowledge that Allan A'Dale frequently used irony and understatement when articulating. She should have expected him to break the silence with a taunt. She twisted her body around so she faced him, and let her dark hair fall into her eyes, obscuring her vision.

"I am pleased. I just don't show it well."

"Even so, I didn't expect you to shake when you saw me. I'm not a psychotic mass murderer, you know?" Allan replied, causing Elena to roll her eyes at him. He smirked and leant forward so he was inches away from her, "Anyway, I only kill occasionally."

A small laugh was elicited from Elena's lips. She raised an eyebrow and returned his smirk.

"We're supposed to be having an intellectual discussion about our preferred Shakespeare works and you are taking this precious time away from me to reveal your homicidal activities. Sweet." She commented back to him, immediately becoming aware of their closeness, and biting her tongue to stop from shaking again. She moved backwards slightly, resulting in Allan moving away also.

Allan noticed how she completely avoided his note on her shaking, and decided not to push it. There was definitely a complexity to Elena that concerned him.

"Excuse me, Hart, but I'm getting into the role. The role of my favourite Shakespearean character - Henry the Fifth. He kills only ever to defend his nation and army, and he isn't psychotic: it all adds up."

Elena, taken aback by his smooth recovery, nodded knowingly. Her smirk grew, partly due to Allan's comedic nature, and partly because Henry V was her favourite play by Shakespeare. She had studied this particular piece meticulously for her A-Levels, and considered herself something of an expert on the subject.

"I _adore_ that play," she said, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

"Great, so we're decided?" Allan smiled broadly, happy to have finally won her over.

"Indeed we are,"

Allan couldn't help but feel overjoyed at how smoothly this was going, and, to his relief, the initial awkwardness ceased for the remainder of the class. Their friendly banter was interrupted by John announcing that the seminar had concluded, and that they were dismissed.

Elena reached for her bag, unzipping it carefully to replace her notepad and pen. As she did so, she saw a familiar hand creep onto her desk, leaving a small, folded piece of paper in front of her. No sooner had she spotted it, she glanced up to see Allan already out of his seat and halfway to the door. He turned to face her, throwing one of his endearing smiles at her.

"Let me know when you're free, yeah?" he said, with a new found confidence, and indicating towards the piece of paper.

Puzzled, she unfolded it to reveal his name, mobile number, and a single kiss in his unusually neat handwriting. She looked up to see that he had already exited the classroom, so she simply smirked to herself, biting her lip slightly to prevent it turning into a fully-formed grin.

_Stop it Elena, the kiss probably meant nothing,_ she thought to herself, _Besides, you have a boyfriend._

_Unfortunately_, she added, a short while after, summoning all of her willpower to prevent an audible sigh from escaping her lips.

* * *

The crisp autumn air was welcomed hungrily by Elena as she stepped outside of The Arts Building - home of English Literature and Language teachings at the University. Autumn definitely stood out for her as the most beautiful season: Summer was too hot, Spring was too damp, Winter was too slippery. Autumn was where you could relish the leaves turning golden and scarlet; where you could live in a warm cardigan and Converse, and not feel the brisk chill.

The brunette moved quickly across the leaf-ridden road, leaving behind the thrum of the students as they left their first seminar in excitement. Allan was nowhere to be seen, disappointingly: Elena had hoped to say something to him. Something that didn't sound as awkward as she felt everything else she had said to him had sounded like. Cursing at how she behaved, Elena quickened her pace - she had work in 25 minutes, and although the shabby-chic coffeehouse was only 3 streets away, she liked to be early.

When Elena turned sixteen, she'd been one of the first out of her friends to start a career. It was small and understated, working in a café - but her wages made life as a student a lot easier. Working had surprisingly given her a form of escapism: her life of suffering could be totally forgotten while she served an endless stream of milky cappuccinos. It made her forget about Guy, forget about University - Elena adored it.

A gust of wind blew past her as she approached the leafy side-street (where the coffeehouse was situated) and Elena instinctively grasped a hold onto her sleeves. It was an automatic reaction - at all times, Elena refused to let her arms be displayed, for fear of her bruises and cuts being picked up on.

It was a fear, and it stalked her.

* * *

Allan found his thoughts surprisingly consumed by the dark-haired beauty that was Elena Hart. There was something about the girl that he couldn't quite put his finger on. This usually wasn't the case with girls and Allan A'Dale - they would openly reveal themselves to him; perhaps even throw themselves at him. With Elena, she seemed...secluded. Allan found a strange need to take care of her: he wanted to make her happy, as she always seemed so downcast.

He strided in the direction of his apartment (after he'd left Elena, he'd stayed for a brief tuition with his personal lecturer, meaning that it was almost dark by the time he was able to leave), briskly shaking off the cold as he pulled his dark leather jacket around his torso - Allan never dressed for the weather; therefore his usual autumnal outfits consisted of aztec shirts, dark skinny jeans, and his trademark jacket - compared to the warm, practical clothing that his friends enjoyed.

_I need to see her. I need to figure her out._

Allan paused. Was this happening? He hadn't fallen for a girl for months - excluding intoxicated dalliances with girls who wanted cheap lust. Truthfully, he regretted giving them what they wanted, but now he felt inspired to change. Maybe he was getting overwhelmed by her endearing personality and looks, but Elena was more than a lad's "conquest".

And so, he changed his path home. Instead of walking along Sheffield's main street of University buildings, he headed back the way he had came - towards Marian's, a café renowned for its rustic, student style. He approached the door, glancing up at the vintage street lamp illuminating the interior. He paused outside, standing in a shadow - the interior was dimly lit, but he could make her out.

_Elena._

Her dark hair hung around her as she served a couple with a tray of steaming, porcelain mugs. The tiny apron clung to her hips as she smiled; the spotlights on the ceiling brightening her pale complexion to make her look glowing. He can't resist her demure charm, and he opens the door, revealing himself with a gentle chime.

"Allan?" she asked, almost dropping the tray she was carrying. Allan shook his head, causing his light-coloured fringe to fall across his forehead in a rather attractive way. He raised an eyebrow at her, and Elena immediately acknowledged it as his way of greeting her.

"Are you here for coffee?" she enquired, sweetly, making eye contact with him. He shook his head almost immediately; he wanted nothing but to speak to her.

"No, no - I actually heard that you worked here, so I wanted to, um, talk." He replied, shrugging off his leather jacket to reveal a navy, button-down, aztec t-shirt. A form-fitting one, at that. Elena looked awkward, and her hands flew to the sugar pot in front of her - conveniently unscrewing and tightening the lid. She bit her lip.

"About anything serious?" her reply wasn't supposed to sound so anxious, but inevitably, it did.

"Unless you count the presentation as serious, then no," Allan commented, reaching out to remove the sugar pot from her grasp.

"Okay, well, I'm listening," she smiled, brushing a wayward lock of hair behind her ear.

"Actually, I was hoping you'd come and have a seat with me? Don't worry, I don't bite," he stated with an cheeky snigger - reminiscent of an excitable four year old child. Elena couldn't help but be reassured by his humour, and drawn in by the hopeful glint in his eyes.

"I'd love to, but my shift doesn't finish until seven," Elena sighed, glancing over at the clock to observe the minute hand painfully and carelessly dawdle around the face - currently, much to her disappointment, it was only just approaching twenty past six.

"It's okay, I'll wait," Allan seemed unphased, despite having to wait forty minutes for her, and took a seat in a nearby booth, "I may have to take you up on that coffee, however,"

Elena simply giggled and returned to the counter, where she began taking orders from the hordes of customers coming home from work. It became clear to Allan that the café was significantly short staffed, considering the only visible employees were Elena, and the portly cleaning lady who kept smiling sweetly in his direction.

After ten minutes, Allan noticed Elena was growing slightly flustered, pottering from table to table to collect used mugs and crumb-ridden plates, as well as occasional tips left by generous patrons. Her cheeks were flushed and she kept raking her hair back from her face - Allan concluded that this made her look even more adorable than he thought possible. He resisted the temptation to jump up and help her; he feared this would seem too forward and, in all honesty, it wasn't really his place. He did, however, shoot sympathetic glances every time she passed his seat, or whenever she brought him a fresh flat white.

After what seemed like hours, satisfied customers filtered out and seven o'clock finally came. Elena couldn't take her apron off quick enough - it had been a tiring shift and she felt terribly guilty for making Allan wait. She finally slumped down in the cushioned seat opposite him with a deep sigh, her feet instantly feeling more relaxed and the aching starting to subside.

"Good shift?" Allan jokingly questioned, knowing straight away what the answer would be.

"_Busy_ shift," she responded, laughing lightly, "coffee good?"

"Lovely, thank you, one of the best I've had in a long time," he said, taking a sip from his mug as if to physically demonstrate his appreciation.

"Glad to hear it, with the amount I was making tonight, I'm pleased at least one of them was half-decent," Elena chuckled to herself.

Idle chatter followed - both of them asking the other how they were and how their day had been - and both Allan and Elena were pleasantly surprised that any initial awkwardness had receded substantially. Eventually, however, the subject matter changed to their imminent English presentation.

A lengthy discussion then ensued, evaluating the themes and emotions within Henry the Fifth's famous speeches. Elena was in her element - as someone who was known for being overly analytical about everything, she found herself immersed in the conversation, highlighting the underlying connotations of glory, patriotism, and violence. Allan was impressed, her knowledge seemed to know no bounds.

"So, feeling confident?" Allan pondered, expecting a resounding yes.

"Hm, comme ci, comme ça," Elena replied, omitting an air of nervousness.

"What?" Allan replied quizzically, unable to understand how somebody so naturally gifted could be at all worried, "Why?"

"I don't know. I'm not that great with speaking in front of people, nerves," she shrugged, realising how silly she must sound at the age of 20, being scared of talking to her English class.

"Oh, I see," Allan sat forward in his seat, leaning with his arms folded on the table, "you know, you have no reason at all to be afraid. I think you're so talented, and I know you can do it. Trust me."

Elena blushed as Allan complimented her with such sincerity. She found herself doing exactly as he said - trusting him completely.

"Besides," he continued, "in the unlikely event you do mess up, you'll have me there to help you. Don't freak out, just enjoy it."

"I'll try, thank you," she beamed, flattered.

* * *

It was nearing eight when Elena finally saw fit to lock up and go home, despite feeling rude for kicking Allan out. He waited outside, peering through the window as she sorted out the till and the alarm, making sure everything was in its place ready for tomorrow's shift. She finally joined him outside, locking the door behind her.

"Do you have a lift home?" Allan asked, noting the chill in the air from earlier was now practically sub-zero, and the empty street was enveloped in shadows.

"Nope, I just figured I'd walk. it gives me time to think," she responded cheerfully, though it didn't take long for him to notice that most of this optimism was forced, as she looked sceptically down the gloomy road.

"Come on, I'll walk you home," Allan smiled, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

"Oh no, I'll be fine. Besides, I'm probably completely out of your way," Elena insisted, feeling she was being a complete inconvenience. Allan conceded that she was probably right, her house was probably totally out of his way, but, nevertheless, he was adamant on walking her home all the same.

"I wasn't asking," he laughed, "now, which way are we going?"

"Left," Elena sighed, fearing he would keep persisting until she relented.

"Fantastic, shall we be going?" He took her by the elbow and steered her down the street, running with the logic that movement would help keep them warm.

As it happened, Elena only lived about ten minutes away, on the first floor of a house that'd recently been converted into flats. The houses were beautiful; grand, terraced structures, each with an upstairs bay window and vines of ivy adorning the terracotta brickwork.

Sure enough, her house was in the exact opposite direction of Allan's apartment - he didn't mind, however.

"Thank you so much for walking me home, you really didn't have to," Elena nodded, grateful that she seemed to finally have somebody in her life that gave half a damn about her safety.

"Don't mention it, what sort of gent would I be if I let a beautiful girl walk home on her own?" Allan smirked back, pleased she was genuinely thankful.

"You flatter me too much," she laughed, blushing furiously.

She extended her arms, welcoming him into a friendly hug, which Allan appreciated greatly. His arms naturally wrapped around her tiny waist, and it almost felt like they belonged there. He was waiting for her to pull away (sadly) and so he seized the opportunity, inhaling the sweet scent of her long, raven hair. It was other-worldly. Alas, Elena eventually removed herself from his embrace to bid him goodbye.

"I enjoyed tonight," she said, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

"Me too, we should do it again sometime," Allan hinted, hoping she'd accept his invitation.

"Yeah, I'd like that,"

"Until then, goodnight Elena."

With that, Allan turned and strolled back the way they came, leaving Elena on her doorstep.

Well and truly torn**.**

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**Please review! Thank you so much for reading, we have a lot more hurt/comfort to come in future chapters - so stay tuned! Regular updates are HERE. Thanks - Alice and Sophie.**


	3. Interruptions

Chapter 3 - Interruptions

14 days had passed since Allan had walked Elena home, and their relationship had grown dramatically. Their presentation had undeniably been a success: so much so that John Little had awarded them a well deserved first. Naturally, this had brought them closer, and before Elena could believe it, they'd started to spend time with each other out of University.

It started off by accident. Allan had been out with his friends from the Photography Society, and they'd casually decided to go to Marion's, ending up bumping into no other than Elena. This had been the day after he'd walked her home, and she'd suddenly found herself again, walking with him.

Then, he called her. Asked if she wanted to go to the Library. She'd acquiesced, unsure of what would unfold, but happy to participate. They had exhausted book after book: both finding their favourite classics, or equally, the novels they loved to detest. It had turned out to be a day that would stay with Elena forever - she'd finally found a true friend.

The following days had consisted of a series of texts, several comical Skyping sessions, and a host of different outings between the pair. Allan had confided in Elena - he was an only child, after his brother's untimely death when Allan was merely 14 years of age, and his parents had often struggled with money. It was Allan's decision to bring fortune to the family - he was determined to entertain a high-profile career, so that money would finally not be an issue any more As for Elena, she had refrained from revealing how she felt to Allan. She couldn't tell him. She couldn't involve him - such a naturally caring and endearing character would only become tired of her shenanigans with her so-called-boyfriend, Guy Gisborne.

"You're sure these taste good?" Elena asked, as Allan approached her in the bar with two thin glasses of cranberry-coloured liquid.

"They are unreal, I promise you." There was an element of complete trust in his voice; something Elena could rely on. He had a certain tone to his voice that meant that he was constantly filled with a confidence, that unlike the usual cocky type of confidence/arrogance, was rather comforting to those around him.

Elena looked blankly at the drink. "Vodka Vimto on the Rocks" was what Allan had told her it was, and she would be lying if she said that she wasn't intrigued by it.

"Don't down it in one," he said, before lifting his glass with a wink and a small tug of the lips, and taking a long sip. Elena elicited a small laugh (in Allan's opinion, it was one of the most wonderful things he had ever heard), before taking a drink.

It turned out that "Vodka Vimto on the Rocks" was indeed, an unreal creation. The sweetness of the Vimto combined with the sharp taste of Vodka was surprisingly indulgent, and the ice at the bottom of the glass left Elena longing for more as she finally drained her glass, minutes later.

"Come on, then," Allan began, as one of his mischievous expressions played around on his face, "are you up for 20 questions?"

Elena beamed. Someone who genuinely wanted to find out more about her. He was interested in who she was, for once. With a determined nod, Elena approved his request, and Allan kicked the game off.

"Favourite place?"

She paused. It was a long time since she'd been to her favourite place, but she would never forget about it.

"Attenborough Nature Reserve, in Nottingham. I wasn't too popular back in High School, so instead of parties, I went to the Nature Reserve," she admitted, before giggling, "and now I'm literally just realising how genuinely sad that sounds!"

Allan cracked up, but smiled sympathetically.

"That is both slightly heartbreaking and very hilarious."

"And you?"

"I love it here. I'm not saying I dislike where I come from, in London, but Sheffield is totally different. There's equality. It's smaller, and not as disrupted by all sorts of crime."

Elena's understanding nod said it all. She rested her index finger on her lip as she pondered the next question, and Allan observed the subtle beauty in the action.

"What do you want to be in five years time?"

Allan smiled. Unlike most boys, he'd always known what he had wanted to be.

"Freelance journalist. And yourself?"

"I fluctuate. Sometimes it's an editor...sometimes it's an astronaut. Depends on how I feel."

They both suppressed their laughter - badly.

"Okay, okay - single, or in a relationship?"

Elena sighed.

"You've asked me this twice this week, Allan. And the answer is still the same."

Her answer confirmed what Allan already knew - but he still was not deterred. He was smart enough to recognise the signs of a bad relationship, and Elena showed them all.

He waited for Elena to ask him the same question (she knew he was single, but it was just for a laugh, right?) but nothing came. Looking up, he noted that her expression had totally changed. Fear was the dominant emotion - and worry, anger and shock were all encompassed by her face also. Her gaze was aimed directly behind his head.

"Elena? Elena, what's wrong?" The concern in his voice was touching, but Elena had gone into a state of panic. Her whole body shook with minuscule tremors of horror, and Allan was completely baffled.

"I...I'm so sorry -"

With that, a large figure came into Allan's view. The figure was a man: his dark, unruly locks of sleek hair and uneven facial hair were what Allan noticed first, followed by the leather theme that he was wearing (trousers, jacket and a skin-tight black v-neck) that implied he was some sort of biker. The man was taller than Allan, only by an inch or so - but, still, he felt intimidated.

"Elena," the man grunted, "if I were you, I would be saying goodbye to your friend here, and getting in my car immediately."

Allan's eyebrows shot up, stunned by the statement. Who was this guy? How dare he have the audacity to speak to Elena like that?

Before Allan could protest, Elena practically leaped out of her seat. She grabbed her purse with shaking hands, and let her hair fall over her eyes as he flashed Allan a violent glare - who, in turn, rose out of his seat in confusion, but to no avail.

"Guy, I'm -"

"We're not talking in here in front of him, Elena. We'll have a private discussion, yes?" Guy spat, grabbing Elena by her forearm and sharply jerking it forward, resulting in Elena being dragged instantly away from the secluded booth that she had been sharing with Allan in the upmarket student bar.

"Elena!" Allan's cry was barely audible over the commotion Guy caused, storming past the crowds of drinkers and waiters quickly with a fragile-looking Elena in tow.

It suddenly clicked for Allan. Guy was Elena's boyfriend, whom she detested with a passion. His wardrobe of black generally told Allan all he needed to know - this man was not to be messed with. However, Allan rarely paid attention to the rules.

* * *

Please review - your comments are loved :) Chapter Four is where the story really pushes forward, so we'll update hopefully next week with it.


	4. Revelations

Chapter 4 - Revelations

Allan slumped back in his seat, reeling from the events of the last half hour. He ran a hand down his face, rubbing at the sparse hair on his jaw while attempting to think of a suitable course of action.

Before that, however, he took a moment to consider exactly what happened. One minute, he and Elena were lost in their conversation, blissfully unaware of everybody else in the bar - as far as they were concerned, they were the only two people there. The next, she was being whisked away by a threatening hulk of a man; vulnerable and terrified out of her wits.

He took a moment to ponder how much simpler this would be if he were a knight in shining armour, straight from the legends of old. He would be able to rescue his fair maiden from the clutches of anybody who endangered her, and gallop off to safety without so much as brandishing his sword. Or perhaps a superhero, soaring through the night in a race against time to defeat the evil supervillain, saving the beautiful hostage in the process.

Allan came crashing back to reality when his thoughts were disturbed by his obnoxiously cheerful ringtone. He fumbled in his pocket for his phone, pulling it out and almost dropping it in the process. He rushed to unlock it, hoping and praying that his hunch was correct.

Sure enough, there was one unread message from Elena.

He opened it, wary.

_I'm so sorry, I owe you an explanation x_

Allan's fury towards the situation only multiplied when he saw how apologetic she was, and how she evidently felt he was angry or disappointed in her - she couldn't be more wrong. He formulated a response, and replied.

_There's no need to say sorry, are you alright? x_

Her response was almost instantaneous.

_Come round? x_

He immediately pulled on his jacket and rose from the booth, practically marching out of the bar. If his memory served him well, he was about ten minutes from Elena's house - he dropped her a text to say he would be there as soon as he could.

And, with that, he took off down the dimly lit road.

She wasn't indoors, as he expected her to be. Instead, she was perched on her garden wall, swinging her Converse-clad feet like a little girl. Her hands gripped onto the wall either side of her thighs and her head hung low, her face shielded from view by her long hair. She wore only a loose fitting t-shirt and a thin cardigan to protect her from the evening chill - except, tonight, chill was an understatement.

Allan approached her slowly, opting for the silent treatment. He pulled himself up onto the wall so he was sitting beside her, but he never uttered a word. Instead, he started to swing his legs too, mirroring her movements exactly.

After about a minute, the silence was broken.

"Allan, I'm-"

"Elena," he sighed, "you don't owe me any kind of apology."

"Yes I do, or at the very least I owe you an explanation!" She almost sounded frustrated. She wanted nothing more than to pour her heart out to him about her situation, just purely for the sake of relieving herself of this burden; she just didn't know how, or if she even had the capacity to do so without breaking down. The last thing she wanted to do was scare him off.

In the end, she began to wonder if it was a good idea telling him at all. After all, they had only been close for a matter of weeks, she wasn't entirely certain she could trust him with such a distressing secret. Being an optimist, she liked to think that she could, but there was no way of predicting how he would react.

"Look, I came round to find out if you were okay, not to have you apologise to me about something you can't control."

Elena just sighed - after all, he had a point; she was powerless to stop Guy behaving the way he did.

A sudden gust of wind blew down the street, causing the shivers that Elena had been suppressing to be released. She rubbed the tops of her arms in an attempt to warm herself up, battling in vain against the ever-decreasing temperature.

Without so much as a word, Allan removed his jacket, and then his maroon hoodie - the latter of which he draped around Elena's shoulders.

"Thank you," she said, the corners of her mouth twitching into the vague form of a smile. She slipped her arms into the sleeves and untucked her hair from the back of the garment.

This movement, however, and the light from a nearby street lamp, revealed more of her face than she had intended. Allan paused as a feeling that could only be described as fear built in his stomach.

"Elena," he began, slowly, trying his best to keep his voice neutral, "what is that behind your hair?" He watched her eyes widen as it dawned on her what was not lost on him, like it had been on so many others. The dilation of her pupils in panic confirmed it for Allan - his suspicions were correct. For Elena, she was clawing at her mind for a new cover up; a new story to delude her friends and family about the recurring bruises and cuts on her body.

"Elena?" Allan prompted, his voice adopting a dark tone of masculinity. His eyes, again, travelled to her face as she shook her head, sadly. Elena's hands shook with not only nerves, but realisation. Not one person knew her secret; she wasn't sure whether she was even ready for Allan A'Dale to become privy to it. Allan reached out towards her, precariously, waiting to gauge a reaction before he completed the action.

Elena flinched. She couldn't let him...could she? A thousand thoughts flew through her head, and before she knew it, she had bent her head, allowing him better access. The cooling, soft touch of his fingers against her skin sent a shiver up her spine, contrasting the sparks she felt as he brushed a lock of her dark hair behind an ear, eliciting a sharp intake of breath as he inspected the (unfortunately) eye-catching red mark.

"He did this, didn't he? Did Guy hit you when you left the bar?"

She shook her head.

"No, he didn't hit me when we left the bar," finally finding her voice, she replied to his question timidly, "because he abused me instead."

Allan watched in silence as her face grew cast with both sorrow and dark impressions, that could only have been made by the hand of a man. The anger and fury burned in his stomach. He was overwhelmed - her fragility was down to nothing but a coward. He needed to stay calm, and strong, for the shivering girl next to him, however, so he exhaled for a few moments before he spoke again.

"What did he do?"

Cautiously, the sleeves of his hoodie and her cardigan were pulled up - to display ugly red scrapes; fresh, yellow bruises; and prominently, age old scars. Her pale skin was hardly visible behind all of the mementos of pain.

"What didn't he do, Allan? We started dating two years ago. He was the rich boy of Nottingham's Sixth Form, and my parents...well, they didn't discourage us going out, let's put it that way. He was smart and doting, and I'd never had a boyfriend before - what could go wrong?" Elena explained, before bitterly murmuring, "Everything."

Allan tried to listen to her. He was naturally a good listener, but in this specific circumstance, he was deafened by anger. It was so testing to stay calm and hear her out, due to the vicious pumping of blood through his veins.

"After our last exam in Year 13, we went to a party. Guy had organised it, and his investment banker father hired out a huge suite for us all. Guy bought me a dress to wear: a dress that just happened to be the sluttiest, most provocative article of clothing ever to grace a bloody shop floor. I refused to wear it, as I knew that most of my friends would be wearing jeans or shorts, not a ridiculous micro-dress with diamante and sequins and..." she trailed off, shuddering, before composing her demeanor and continuing, "Guy wasn't pleased when he discovered I intended not to wear the dress. He clutched my arm so tight that it was so sore and stiff that I couldn't even dance, and I had to wear an extra inch of makeup just to barely cover the bruises forming."

Her face twisted in anger, and Allan felt a similar emotion in his stomach. He let her finish, before he asked his questions.

"Of course, he gushed with apologies the following morning. Of course he did. And a week later, when my wrist ended up broken, he was incredibly sorry again. After a while, he stopped apologising. He didn't care if my arms bled and ruined my clothes, he didn't care how hard he hit me...as long as Guy got what Guy wanted, everything was fine.

"It's the same now. I feel like I'm in a prison every day, and there's no escape. Captivity, if I can call it that, doesn't scare me; the thought of being with him for the rest of my life does. I'm his precious diamond that fades when exposed to sunlight, so he treats me as if I cannot be apart from him. The only barrier I have is that I refuse to live with him, but that won't last for much longer. If he hates me so, why does he want me? Why doesn't he replace me with a blonde bombshell? I ask these questions every single day of my life. All I can think of is that he wants to be in control of someone, or that he wants to practise his blows."

A numbness overwhelmed Elena by the time she finished speaking. She felt like she was describing someone else's life to Allan, and for a moment, she almost didn't believe it was her life. Allan's face scared her, a fraction - mainly because he, too, looked numb. There was no prevailing emotion etched into his expression: in fact, there seemed to be so many running through him that he didn't have the capacity to focus on one emotion.

Allan himself tried desperately to think of the appropriate words to say to her. They sat in a deafening silence as he wracked his brains, to no avail. Instead, he sighed, and instinctively wrapped his arms tight around her. The unexpected action led Elena to still, not responding in the desired manner for at least ten seconds before she let her body relax.

In all honesty, she couldn't remember relaxing in someone's embrace, like so, for years.

Allan's scent was subtle, but once she inhaled it, she couldn't get enough. Unlike Guy's overbearing leather stench, Allan smelled of fresh cologne and Vimto - an unlikely but attractive combination. His jacket, soft and warm, rubbed against the plane of her cheek. She leaned into it, relishing the moment. His hands roved around her back, soothing her tight knots of tension as her head rested against his chest. They stayed like that for what seemed like hours; but was probably only mere minutes.

"Can I ask a few questions?" Allan finally pulled away, posing the question as he looked into her eyes. Elena nodded and (feeling decisively awkward) pulled away from their embrace. Allan kept close - he wanted to show as much support as possible. "Why do you not break up with him?"

Her pause said it all - the flicker of terror crossing her face as she imagined the outcome. His hand rested on her elbow, one finger drawing light circles.

"I tried. After a while, I came to the discovery that it was no use to retaliate, or try to escape, because it would only get worse. I became weak, and he knew it. He exposed my weaknesses - and if I leave him, I'm open for attack."

"Does anyone else know?"

Elena's guilty shake of her head sent a fierce bolt of emotion into Allan's stomach. Anger? Remorse? Sympathy? _Pretty much all bloody three._

"I haven't told my family. I can't. I have a big family, and if they knew...I doubt they would let me out of their sights. It would be too overbearing. Apart from you, I've never really had a friend of such who showed any interest in why I am...the way I am."

Allan nodded curtly. Elena shivered - even his hoodie didn't provide enough warmth for her thin body.

"Just one more question. Did he...you know, try to..." Allan trails off. _She's a smart girl. She should work out what I'm hinting at. Especially if he has taken her...no, I cannot even entertain that idea._

Again, Elena shook her head. But with the shake of disapproval came an uncertain bite of her lip. In this type of situation, uncertainty worried Allan.

"No, he didn't," she stated, slowly, as if she was choosing her words selectively, "but he threatened to."

That did it for Allan. He stood, fluidly, and lashed out at the wall.

"Bastard!"  
"Malicious little twisted sod!"  
"I swear, if I get my hands on him, I'll make sure he never sees another hour...the _shit!_"

They were only some of the curses Elena could make out. She hugged her knees - her mouth forming the perfect 'O' as a new side to Allan was revealed: the protector.

"Don't, Allan: please..." Elena pleaded, quietly, as Allan omitted a bitter growl. He paused, and dropped his gaze to observe her pale face. He didn't want to scare her; after what he had just learned, that was the last thing he wanted to do. He ceased his actions, and returned to the wall, taking her by the elbows and turning her to face him.

"I'm sorry. I can't help it, Elena, it's soul-destroying."

She looked down and bit her lip._ How can one, tiny action look so adorable?_

"I wish you weren't involved." She said, plainly. Allan refused to believe that it was_ him_ who she didn't want involved - the scenario was more likely to be that she just didn't want anyone involved. Tough - Allan cared for her (a great deal more than he was willing to let on right now) and he would let no git, no matter how much leather he wore, intimidate and hurt her any more.

"I am," he replied, pulling her to her feet and keeping a soft hold on her elbows, "and I'm going to make you feel better."

Elena's eyes widened in surprise, and she blushed as her mouth opened and closed silently, like a fish. Allan realised what he had just implied - and his head fell forward as he cracked up with laughter.

Elena's eyes shone with bemusement at the sound of his laugh - _it was undoubtedly the most heart-warming sound in the world._ Nervously, she beamed.

"Honestly, that wasn't what I had in mind," Allan clarified. His expression grew serious again, and he took a step closer to her so that his torso inched towards hers, "in fact, my idea was a date. You and me, tomorrow. I'll take you somewhere, and we'll enjoy ourselves. No Guy, no University...just you, and me. Up for it?"

Elena smiled. Allan, so confident and vibrant, showed the tiniest signs of nerves as he asked her out. She looked at her hands for a second, which rested against his forearms. She had a boyfriend, but not out of choice. Therefore, there was no reason for her to say no to this offer.

"Yes, of course," she breathed, letting a small smile grace her features. Allan looked overjoyed by her reaction, and swiftly dropped his head to press a chaste kiss to her forehead. A spark ran through Elena - in that moment, she suddenly wanted to seek comfort from him, to grab him by lapels of that _god-like jacket_ and kiss him with full force.

However, from the past, she knew it was wrong to seek comfort from others. Allan had given her so much that night - even just sitting and listening to her was more than anyone had done for her in years - so she didn't want to burden him further by confusing him.

_He's just here because you texted him. He probably wants to go home. You've freaked him out._

Allan stepped away from her, and indicated gently to the door of her house.

"You should go inside; you look freezing," he commented making to leave. Elena nodded.

"Allan?" she called, turning around as he moved down the path. He swung back around, exuding the renowned A'Dale swagger. Elena stammered, trying to think what to say - however, when she looked at him, her face conveyed everything.

"Thank you." The two words meant more to the pair than they would let on. They were a sign of gratitude - a symbol of a developing relationship.

* * *

A/N: Just to say, to anyone reading this, we've had over 100 visitors in the past month - and little reviews! If you are completely bored by this, or you love it with every fibre in your body, then PLEASE drop us a note. It's so helpful to writers. Or, alternatively, head over to Twitter and tweet us at either UnaIsNotorious or sophsayssupdude. A little goes a long way! Anyway, this is a rather fast update (for us) and we hope you enjoy it.

Next chapter: _Allan and Elena unintentionally take their relationship to the next level as Allan takes her out on a special day trip. Fluff ensues. And so does Guy. _


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